Love in the Present but from the Past
by xangelofmusicx
Summary: Sequel to Love is Eternal not done yet either! The spirits of Olivia, Erik, Raoul and Christine all have gone into the modern times. Being a college professor at Julliard after being run out of France Erik soon finds himself falling in love.
1. First Meeting of the Class

**This is the sequel! I'm posting it now even though I'm not done with the first story yet...Mainly I'm doing that because well...Not sure when my friend and I are truly going to be done with the first story! Hope you like this one though too .**

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**Chapter 1- First Meeting of the Class**

Olivia McKinley walked through the doors of the college her long golden brown hair with blonde highlights was pulled up into a tight ponytail and her blue eyes sparkled with anticipation and excitement. She was 18 years old and had been accept not long ago to this fine institution, Julliard, one of the most prestigious art colleges in the nation. She had got in on a 2 year college scholarship for majoring in ballet and a half a year after that for her minor, vocal, which goes into a total of 2 1/2 years of her not paying full price. Good deal for her, and was glad of them. She was wearing regular jeans that fit her waist nicely and a blue shirt that had silver designs running through it; wearing blue flip flops. Yes she loved the color blue mostly because it was one of the only colors that truly brought out her eyes.

"Ah, a freshman in college...This year will decide it all," Olivia said to herself looking around and taking a deep breath. She had a bag on her shoulder that carried her books and also her ballet shoes in it. She was nervous but didn't really show it due to the big smile on her face.

Sighing, M. Destler sat up and watched students streaming through his door. He had been slumped over his desk, his long black hair falling over the thin Latex face mask he wore at all times. It was shaped like a regular face and detailed well enough that one would not know it was a mask unless one got close enough, and he wasn't one for close quarters.

Vocals were his specialty. He couldn't quite understand how half the students had gotten in, really. Too breathy, too strained, too wild - there was always something. And on the first day he had to go through each voice, finding out what was wrong with it. It was his job, apparently, to perfect it; and perfect is what he tried to do, although it almost never worked. None but the most eager of students ever changed.

It wasn't as though he hadn't heard the students complaining about his mirthless, cold, strict nature between classes. Erik Destler had the keenest of ears, ones needed in his profession, and a quick wit that allowed him to digest the words quickly and emotionlessly. By now he was a master of taking ridicule in stride.

When the class had finished shuffling in - or at least, the steady stream had stopped - he stood and cleared his throat. A couple of his students looked surprised - he was so silent and still he was hard to pick out unless speaking. His voice was a cool, commanding baritone, lightly tinged with a sensual French accent. His voice was his best asset.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he drawled, eyes half-lidding. He had spoken this speech so many times before. "I trust you all know why we are here - to work. This will be an intensive year of studies, and I do not take this class lightly - nor should you. We are here for your future, not mine."

He paused for effect, licking his thin lips. Taking another glance around the room, he noticed the seats were filled from the back and that the front two rows were empty. Well, that was the effect new classrooms seemed to have on freshmen.

Olivia sighed as she sat right in the middle. She didn't know why she had to take her minor class first but she did...What did she do to deserve this? Then again it was well known that this vocal teacher M. Destler was one of the best vocal professor and instructor in the world which was amazing that he should come here to teach. Olivia seemed to be ready to do what ever it took. Her audition had been fairly good, not perfect but enough to get her into minoring it.

She listened to him speak her ears, and mind taking in and understanding everything he spoke of. Yes like most freshmen she decided to sit not in the front but at least two rows from it.

For a moment Erik simply looked around, and then gave a rare smile. The latex of his mask stretched with his lips. "You all," he said gently, "have been accepted for your exceptional talents. However, I intend only to pass those of you who are truly the best. Those of you who can bring the voice of Heaven to his lowly earth. The rest of you, I will tell you now, I will not have much time for. It is blunt but that is the way of the world - savage and cruel. If you do not wish to learn - if you cannot learn - switch your class, please. I will request some of you to leave within the first week. Don't be too insulted. I am a harsh master."

Another wry smile escaped him and he blinked his odd eyes for what seemed the first time. It made him less intense, somehow more vulnerable. For a moment he stood, allowing the words to sink in. "Any questions?" he barked, his tone suddenly a rough blaze.

Olivia seemed to be thinking that even though Erik was a harsh teacher his requirements were quite...Well, let's says high...There were only a select few whose voices were like that...And not many would be passing this class. Suddenly her hand shot up in the air not caring how rough his voice sounded in her heart she was not going to let one man stand in her way, though music was not her true passion unlike ballet but still she had every right to study it and learn how to sing better than how she does at this moment.

Blinking regally, Erik turned slowly to face Olivia. "A brave one," he purred. "Yes, Miss ...?" He nodded at her, indicating she should continue. The knuckles on his slim white hands cracked slightly as he leaned forward on the desk but he paid them no mind. His suit jacket was half-hanging off now. He brushed his long black hair back with one hand, tucking it neatly behind his ears.

"Well...First off yes you are a harsh professor, and a fairly good one mind you; my private lessons instructor already warned me about how strict you are. Anyway I have a few questions to ask of you...Don't you think your requirements are well, on a logical stand point, high? I mean there are only a few students who are able to sing in the manner as you describe, Professor, but still what about the others who have high potential of reaching that goal with only a few set of lessons? Where do your standards end for those who can pass and those who fail? Surely you won't fail lets say everyone who is close to achieving the goal you want to will you?" Olivia said her blue eyes watching him closely. She licked her lower lip nervously hated being watched so intently, yes of course when dancing or doing any type of performance she was being stared at but this was a whole different atmosphere than on stage.

Erik would have smiled - but he didn't much feel like it.

"Miss, my standards are high because low standards are the sin of the weak," he said calmly. "This whole world has high standards and if we are not at school for life lessons what are we here for? I clawed my way to the top of a very slippery slope and often I had to start again from the bottom. If it wasn't easy for me, it won't be easy for you. Those whom I fail are more than welcome to take another teacher's class. In fact," he added, glancing around, "I will ask some of you to do so. And as for you, miss," he went on, eyes dulling as he glared at her. "Being close is not the same as getting there; though I do reward heavily for effort. Perhaps even enough to pass. Are you so worried?" he asked gently, now not mocking her. His voice was gentle and almost kind.

"I was not saying to put low standards...Actually high standards are for the best but yours seems to be wanting to be perfect. Nobody is perfect. We all have our own flaws whether they're more prominent or not we still have them," she said getting offensive of what he had first said about her two or something like that questions. Her last one though his voice had grown gentle, almost kind and she could tell he was not mocking her at this. "You could say I am worried yes...Only a fool wouldn't be worried," she replied in a soft voice.

"I never said I demanded perfection. I understand very well that you all have flaws. What I expect is only the best voices. All of you," he boomed, "have at one point been inspired to come here and sing. That inspiration is what will carry you and perfect you, which is what I ask. Be mental if you like. Be a murderer, but put effort into my class and please don't kill me."  
Most students usually didn't seem to realize he'd made a joke - he always delivered them dead serious, with a straight face and dull eyes.

"Voice testing," he said suddenly. "I'll take you one by one in the office and hear you sing a piece of your choice. Orderly line, please." With that he strolled back into his office - which was adjoining the room - and settled himself on a stool.

Christine Johnson walked into the room first and she looked quite nervous and scared. She was a lovely 18 year old girl with her mass of curly dark brown almost black hair, big brown eyes, and a sweet innocent face and look to her. She looked at Erik with her big eyes which showed how nervous she was but she was also ready.

Olivia watched the first girl go in. Why did she have to be after that girl? To her Christine looked quite clueless...Christine didn't even look 18 for all Olivia knew and if Christine wasn't in college Olivia would have thought she was around 15 or 16 years old and not 18. Olivia through her hair back and began practicing her scales in her mind, letting her mind hear the notes, but she was nervous and worried about the outcome of this voice test.

Erik took one glance at the girl and sighed. "Name?" he asked, already abhorring the look of her. She looked like a complete bimbo, an airhead. She looked like she should be in nursery school!

His eyes half-lidded and he leaned back against the wall, pen poised over his paper. "Sing in your most comfortable range, please, and a song that gives me the extent of it. Begin when you're ready."

"I'm Christine Johnson," she replied in a nervous and soft voice when he asked her that. Her eyes looked around the small enclosed room before turning back to him quickly as he spoke some more. She nodded her head slowly as she thought of a song to sing. Once she got it she nodded and opened her mouth.

Christine's voice rang out pure, at first she started low but soon her voice rose to its full soprano range. Her voice was powerful, pure, lacking in some emotion here and there, but still she had a beautiful voice. Most people actually wouldn't be able to have actual words to describe her voice. It was so clear and beautiful it probably would make the angels in heaven weep.

Erik sat stunned, too enthralled to move an inch or even to blink. To his intense chagrin he found himself somehow aroused by the sheer beauty of her voice...and it had been so long, so long since he had heard one so purely, intensely, flawlessly terrifying in it's beauty.

He could no longer hear the words. He almost wept hearing the sharp clarity of her voice, knowing he would have the privilege of hearing it again and again. It was almost too much for him to handle; and he leaned forward, propping himself on his knees.

Christine soon stopped when her song ended and when she saw him go to his knees. "Ummm...Professor is anything wrong?" she asked in a nervous voice biting her lip as she looked at him. Her breathing was deep and yet soft. She didn't know what was going on or what she had done. All she did was sing in her voice.

Olivia had her arms crossed and tapping her foot..."How long does a voice test take?" she asked herself in annoyance not paying attention to everyone else who were whispering and giggling about stuff.

"That was perfection, miss Johnson," he rasped, prostrate on the floor. "You're done. You can go, miss ... and you shall be taking my class, of course ..." He touched his forehead to the floor, shaking slightly. God, but that had been as close to Heaven as he was ever likely to get.

His breathing was ragged and sharp and he had a hard time keeping the tears from spilling down his face.

Olivia nodded to Christine as she came out and who had given her a soft, kind smile. Olivia let out a sigh as she walked in. Upon seeing Erik on the floor made her eyes go wide. "Umm...If you're busy with something else I'll go," she said a little confused why he was on the ground in the first place.

"No, no, come in." He shuddered, righted himself and pulled himself back onto his stool. He was badly shaken, anyone could see that. His eyes were wide and his mask was coming off, shifted to the left so that one eyes was partially covered. Of course, he didn't notice. "Please, miss, give me your ..." He forgot the word for a moment, then frowned and righted himself. "Your name, and sing a song in your comfortable range."

She closed the door slowly when he said that she can fully come into the room. "My name is Olivia McKinley...And something is covering...Well A little bit covering your eye," she said pointing to where his mask was covering his eye slightly. She had prepared an Italian aria, had practice it time and time again, and it was more middle range. No, she didn't want to go up to her full soprano range that was her true range, that's why she had chosen this aria it was simple yet difficult enough to be considered an advance college level piece of music.

Erik rose his hand to his face, feeling, and swore under his breath, turning away. "Just a moment, miss," he growled, adjusting his mask and slipping it off fully by accident. It took him a good ten minutes just to put the thing on right. "Why don't you start?" he suggested, slipping over to a mirror and peering at himself in it. It was angled towards Olivia, as well, so he could see her quite easily. His mask was in his hands. "And make sure your song expresses your full capabilities, miss."

_My full capabilities...No I'll just fake I can't go any higher than what this song offers_, she thought not sure how she was going to fake not being able to go any higher than what the song offers. Oh well she'd wing it, besides it did go up to a high A at the end but that was what a lot of mezzo sopranos could hit which at this moment she was pretending to be. She opened her mouth and began to sing. It was like she had the song embedded in her mind, even though her voice wasn't perfect perfected and needed a few things to work on but she made the song sort-of come alive with the right dynamics and doing the crescendos and decrescendos when need to and becoming louder and softer when suppose to. Not only that her Italian pronunciation seemed right on the mark as she sang.

Erik sighed, raising his eyebrows. When would they learn?

Forgetting, for a moment, that his mask was still in his hand he angled himself towards Olivia. "Higher, please," he said calmly. "For one bar try one octave up. I just want to hear. And more force."

With that he turned back towards the mirror and fit the top of the mask to his forehead, pressing it firmly back.

Olivia wanted to moan...An octave higher, damn, she thought but she followed his orders moving the notes up to an octave higher. Yes for one whole bar he wanted her to sing an octave higher, but she went into two bars before dropping back down smoothly into the normal range of the song. She then ended the song on the high A which she slowly let die in a decrescendo.

Erik nodded, almost done with his mask. "Good," he said calmly. "You're a soprano. You'll be taking my class, please. Show in the next girl."

He didn't realize until he'd said this that his knees were shaking, ever-so-slightly, and that his hands and forehead were cold and beaded with slight perspiration. He wiped his palms on his pants and his forehead with the back of his wrist, blinking rapidly.

She noticed his knees shaking but made no comment on it as she heard what he told her. "All righty," she said in a sweet tone before turning around and sending the next girl in. Well, at least that was over and done with, and she was in his class. She didn't know why but she felt glad she was. Olivia soon sat back down in her seat waiting for the rest of the class to be tested.

Some time later, with the rest of the class tested, Erik emerged from his room and settled himself at his desk, shuffling papers.  
"A list of the accepted," he said flatly, and began to read names distantly, unfocused, uncaring. Christine and Olivia were the first two on his list. Ah, Christine ...

He stopped his thoughts, focusing on the list. Christine was an airhead; he could see that at once.

Olivia was looking around the class. It was a good size class now, not as big as before..._Looks like many were cut out to be in this course...Though why and how did that clueless-looking girl get in?_ she thought. Olivia didn't know why but she felt slightly jealous of Christine. Besides Christine to her was far more prettier...Maybe even had a better voice she didn't know she hoped Christine didn't for that matter. Olivia looked over at Erik for a moment before turning away; resting her head on her hand as though she was bored even though she really wasn't.

Erik had noticed the glance. He stood, blinking, and checked the clock. "There is little time left in the class," he drawled, licking his thin lips. "If you wish to ask me any questions, now is the time to do it. Come up to my desk, please, rather than shouting across the class."

He sat back, leaning over slightly and pushing his hands through his long hair. Sighing, he allowed himself to sink into a strange euphoric doze.

Oh, Christine, your voice ... he murmured inwardly, furrowing his brow. Oh, Christine, your voice ...

Olivia soon grabs her stuff together, gets up and walks down to Erik's desk. "May I please be excused? I need to get to the stage which is on the other side of the building," she said in a rather loud and slightly annoyed tone. She didn't care if he was asleep; actually it was quite irritating that he, the professor was asleep and at least not teaching them something before class ended.

Erik looked up, raising his Latex eyebrows at Olivia. "Miss, if you're angry, do tell me about it," he said calmly, lips pursed. "Rather, of course, than directing aggression at me. I don't believe I have done anything to wrong you."

His mind still held thoughts of Christine's clear, gentle voice and the way her face had lit up when she sang.

"May not be angry but just annoyed...Surely you could have taught us something on our first day rather than do a voice test and then laid back going to sleep thinking about whatever...Maybe some perverse thought or something...Anyway that's besides the point...I need to get to the stage as early as I possibly can! Please may I just go?!" she said in an almost pleading voice at her last statement.

"What of value would I have taught you in ten minutes?" he asked calmly, refusing to rise to her bait. "Please, miss, if you can do better, take the class next time. The voice is an art, and in ten minutes, if I teach anything, it can only harm. Not help. And perhaps, since I haven't taught a thing, this comes out to your advantage. Go to the stage," he growled, "and if you ever accuse me of improper thoughts in a room full of students again you will leave this class. Is that understood, Olivia?" He used her first name sharply, derisively, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Clearly, Erik," she said using his first name before turning around and walking right out of the room not caring what he would say to her, do to her, or if he should even follow her. She had somewhere to go and at least wanted some practice time before her true major course she was taking began. Now though she is a freshman she was in a junior and senior class for ballet which signified she must have done something very well in order to get placed in such a high course class. Erik Destler got on her nerves even though he was a teacher and she needed something to calm her nerves so why not just go to the stage and practice what she truly loved doing, her dance.

Erik snarled at her turned back, half-standing and then forcing himself to sit down. Her appalling rudeness shocked and irritated him to the point where he dismissed the whole class, stormed into his office and slammed the door behind him, in the process kicking a fair-sized hole in the inner paneling.

Only the thought of Christine's incredible voice kept him from going over the edge. He couldn't do that again; he couldn't allow himself to sink back into depravity. He had only narrowly escaped his own darker nature the last time and it was coming out more often - too often.

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**R&R Please!! Love yas!!**


	2. Dance Practice and an Unforgetable Site

**This is the sequel! I'm posting it now even though I'm not done with the first story yet...Mainly I'm doing that because well...Not sure when my friend and I are truly going to be done with the first story! Hope you like this one though too .**

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**Chapter 2-Dance Practice and an Unforgetable Site**

"Hey, hey! Look what we've got here a freshman..." said a guy with a laugh as she walked into the stage area.  
_Great...Now I can't even practice_, she thought glaring at the junior guy and then away her eyes rolling as she did so. She went over to a chair setting her stuff on the floor and took out her ballet slippers.

"I heard you minor in vocal also...Jeez a dancer with all those stuck up singers who think they're better than everyone else just because they got some damn fucking good voice. Well, hell I can sing just as good as the next," the guy said walking over to her and putting an arm around the top of her chair; touching her shoulder slightly.

One young blonde man hurried over, blue eyes blazing with fury. "Leave her alone, you twits," he said indignantly, firmly pushing at the junior. "She's not doing you any harm, boy."

He stood angrily with his arms crossed, comfortable and confident in his tights and leg warmers. His face carried a slightly haughty expression, like he was rather well-off; and of course he was, going here.

"Oh yeah and what are you going to do about it?" the guy asked looking over at the blonde haired man with narrowed and annoyed eyes. The junior walked over closer to the man his manner threatening.

Olivia looked at this man as though he was crazy. The man looked like a child could beat him up, still though shouldn't judge anyone before something happens. Also not only that he looked rather girly in those tights and leg warmers. Weird in her mind but oh well whatever right?

"Oh, nothing much," he said calmly. "Certainly nothing along the line of assassins ... unless you don't leave her alone. You don't know who I am, do you?" he challenged them, eyes blazing. "I suggest you leave off, you wouldn't want to piss off my family ... we Thorleys have quite an influence ..."

He had just uttered the name of one of the most influential families in the city, eyes narrowed as it rolled off his tongue. Obviously he was no stranger to using his own name.

The junior stared at this blonde haired guy in almost complete horror as he backed away. "Fine! I'll leave her alone," the guy said as he walked back to his group of friends.

Olivia looked at the guy who had just saved her and though what he mentioned had scared her a little bit she walked up closer to him. "Ummmm thank you...I don't know how to repay you for your kindness," she said in a soft voice as she looked down at the floor and not directly into the man's face not sure what to really think about this whole thing. Just because she was minoring in singing she basically got threatened by a guy!

He nodded slightly, giving an encouraging smile. "Oh, don't worry about it. They're all cowards, really, and seriously think I'd set an assassin on them ..." He gave a short chuckle, extending his hand warmly. "I'm Raoul, by the way. I'm sorry they were giving you such a hard time, ma'am. They certainly can be jerks, all stuck up and whatnot. I think my father wanted me to be more like that, actually." He shook his head, flipping a wave of blonde hair back from his face and tying it up in a ponytail.

Olivia nodded slowly at his words. "Oh! I'm Olivia...Olivia McKinley," she said quickly looking up at him after he introduced himself to her and shook his hand in a firm and yet gentle grip, "It's a pleasure to meet you Raoul. And I'm glad you're not like them...I agree with you though they are jerks, but scary. God, that guy could have easily taken advantage of me if it wasn't for you." She gave him one of her true smiles showing how grateful she was. "So how long have you been dancing?" She wanted to at least make one friend here just so she could get use to it and so she didn't feel soooo out of place here.

"Pleasure, Olivia," he said kindly. "I'm glad I'm not like them too - it must be an awfully lonely way to live, h'm?" Smiling, he showed off his dazzlingly perfect teeth and flipped a perfectly wayward lock away from his face. "I've been dancing since I was a kid - well, I guess I'm still a kid, really, but when I was more of a kid I was dancing, if that makes sense. I was probably about six years old when my father made me do something, rather than sit around and watch other people doing things. I also horseback ride," he added brightly. "What about you?"

_Wow! This guy is perfect or something...At least he's nicer than that M. Destler__guy and a lot of the other people here too_, she thought with slight admiration. "Oh! I've been dancing since I was three years old...I've loved it ever since I saw my cousin show me a bit of it. She was sooo graceful that I just begged my parents to let me go into lessons. They thought I'd fade out of it soon, but I didn't. Though I did get into voice training as well when I found out I was able to sing at around 10 years old," she replied. A strand of her long, layered brown, blonde highlighted hair fell across her face which made her pull that strand behind her ear. "Oooo horseback riding sounds like fun though never tried it myself."

"Never tried horseback riding?" he asked, feigning shock. "Well, you'll have to come and try it some time, Olivia; we have a nice calm mare you could start on. She's absolutely perfect, actually," he said enthusiastically. "And of course, I can teach you. Dancing since you were three, huh? That's absolute ages, I bet you're a million times better than me ... you've got a three year advantage." Chuckling to himself, he looked her over for the first time. She really was quite pretty, he decided, a little disappointed.

"Really?! You would want me to come?!" she asked almost surprised as though no one has ever asked her to join in anything with them least of all horseback riding. "Oh...It does feel like ages but I simply adore dancing...And I'm probably at least to your level maybe slightly less, Raoul." She didn't like being put above others especially when it came to dancing it was her pride that did that to her.

"Oh, of course," he nodded, smiling encouragingly at her, and added: "Pfft, you just look like a terrific dancer. If we get paired up, can I dance with you?" he joked. "I'd like to get a good mark in this class, you know?"  
He winked, trying to force himself to ogle her. Yet somehow he couldn't do it; no matter how pretty she seemed to be, he couldn't really concentrate on her body.

She blushed a little at his wink and her smile broadened. "That would be fun! Being paired up with you that is...And we can help each other out to get good grades. You teach each other and work together as a team. Besides that will be the best considering everyone else seems to despise me for being a minor in singing." She let out a long sigh wondering why the singing and dancing seemed to rival each other sooo much.

"You sing, too?" He seemed genuinely shocked. "A woman of many talents! I'd love to hear you sometime, Olivia."  
_Oh, shit, oh, shit._ Now it seemed like he was coming onto her! He gave a great beaming smile, inwardly berating himself.

Olivia was laughing after class was over and her face was glowing with such happiness. "Oh I can't believe we were discussing being partners before class and here we are, Raoul, partners," Olivia seemed to be in a bright and cheerful mood, but that is what dancing did though it made her happy. She walked over to her things and began taking her ballet shoes off. "It feels so good to have a friend here. Thank you Raoul." Right after that she stood on her toes and gave Raoul a kiss on his cheek, in a thank you/friendship sort of way.

Raoul flushed slightly, chuckling. "Yes, partners. You're fabulous, Olivia, thank you so much for agreeing to dance with me. This'll really help me out, ha-ha."

Unfortunately M. Destler had chosen that moment to walk into the classroom, holding the binder that Olivia had left in his class earlier. His face flushed heavily beneath the mask and he found himself growing wretchedly furious for reasons beyond his comprehension.

"Your binder, miss," he snarled, thrusting it towards her and giving a short, sharp death glare at Raoul. "Perhaps next time you'll be a little less careless."

Raw sorrow had entered his voice at the end of his sentence, and he just barely managed to keep it from his dead eyes. He glared again at the both of them, then sniffed and whirled on his toe. For a moment he had a vision of himself in a cape, whirling in the same way, but shook it from his head.

Olivia gasped as she felt the binder being thrust into her arms. When she looked up and upon seeing it was M. Destler her eyes went wide in amazement. She was about to say thank you but upon hearing the way his voice sounded made her heart stop for a second. "Er-" she suddenly stopped about to call this professor by his first name! Why did she suddenly forget that he was a professor? That there was no separations between them. She then threw her shoes into her bag and put her jeans back on. Making sure she grabbed everything gave Raoul an apologetic look before rushing out the door towards M. Destler.  
"Monsieur! Please! Stop! What is wrong? What did I do so terribly that you had to look at me and talk to me in that fashion? Please Monsieur tell me...I must know," she said as she caught up to him; thankfully the halls were empty at the time.

"You've done nothing other than any woman your age," he snapped, hands thrust deep in his trouser pockets. His facemask had come half off, slicked with sweat and now showing no expression whatsoever. It simply looked dead. He glanced at her sharply, turning down the corridor towards his office.

"And I never," he added, his voice growing to a rapid crescendo, "want to hear you undermining your range ever again, do you hear me, miss? You are a good soprano and by faking a mezzo at best you are ruining most of your chances for the stage! I want to hear you singing at your true range because damn it all, you have a beautiful voice and I don't want you wasting it!"  
Spent, he stalked into his office and hurled himself down on his couch, ready for some hardcore sulking, and had his mask off before remembering to close the door.

Olivia was shocked by his words. _Me?! A beautiful voice?! A soprano?!_ _Oh dear God!_ she thought wanting to go back but she felt like she had to talk with him more. He was such a complicating character and yet, she felt like she's known him forever. She walked into the room, placing her stuff on the floor went over to the office. "Mons-" she said walking into the office before letting gasp in horror upon seeing him without his mask. _How?!_ she thought before images of a woman looking just like her with lighter hair kissing a man that had a face that looked exactly like M. Destler's, whispering words of love to him. _Wait!_ she told herself coming back to the real world,_ Where the hell are these thoughts coming from?! And how can this man be that deformed?!_ Her mind was rolling with thoughts and though she wanted to get out she was froze where she stood staring at him.

His jaw dropped open, about to form words, but he found himself unable to. Never in his twenty years of teaching had he allowed anyone to see him without his mask - and now the school would be crawling with rumors about his hideousness by the next day.

He lowered his eyes, horrible images of murder and isolated stones in his head, the sound of an organ, the feel of cold flesh beneath his hands.

"Well, now that you've had your fill of ugliness for the day," he said calmly, his voice bitter and pained, "perhaps you'll go and tell that charming young dance partner of yours just why your voice teacher is so wrong in the head. Or perhaps you'd like a picture, as no one would believe you, would they? Shall I pose for you, Olivia? Will you post this on your Myspace? Would you like an autograph from the living corpse, Olivia?" He stood, moving forward slowly, too proud to let his tears fall.

"Do you want to feel it?" he hissed now, a depraved look in his eyes - like that of a wolf in a noose. "Does it feel as dead as it looks?"

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**R&R Please!! Love yas!!**


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